Bay City Runaway

Chapter 9

(2007)

I kept the details of my evening at Heath's apartment to myself over morning coffee with Amy. I didn't really believe what Sri Ravi had said, but there was something about the encounter which had stuck with me. Something about the way I had felt. For just a few moments, I had been at peace, the peace that I had been looking for in one-night stands, booze, and pills. I hadn't known just how profoundly discordant my mind and body had become until that moment when Sri Ravi gave me his blessing. I wanted more, but I didn't know how to get it, and it was sure as shit not going to come from a guru. I just couldn't see myself become a devotee of this guy. I thought of how Padma had rolled her eyes over Heath praying so much with his guru. I found myself agreeing with her, and yet I could not shake the feeling that I had stumbled upon something important.

I'd given up on organized religion despite my upbringing to be a good Presbyterian boy. It's not that I didn't believe in God anymore; it was more like we just weren't on speaking terms. How, I wondered, could a good God allow so much pain into my life? And I was in pain; I could see that now. I had thought I could run away from it, but it was still finding me again in small ways--in the Christmas decorations popping up around my neighborhood, the faces of couples who were spending the late season of their lives together, the laughs of children I would never have with Laura, and in Rodolfo and Mimi. It seemed like it was always there like it had always been there waiting for me to arrive.

"Farid wants to talk to you," said Amy slurping up a spoonful of Sugar Pops. "Says it's important."

I thought it was odd because I saw him five mornings a week for most weeks. I wondered what was so urgent.

"Well, I'm about to see him on my way to work, so..." I said.

"Don't get bitchy with me," she said.

"I'm not getting bitchy; I just think it's a little weird. Did he sound concerned?"

"Not really, he just wanted me to pass it along just in case you skipped your scone or whatever."

"Ok," I said, "Well, I guess I better get going."

"James?"

"Yes."

"I really did love the opera. I just didn't think she was going to die."

"You see, people die all the time on TV."

"No, but that's in a little box in the living room. These were real people in the same room as me making these beautiful sounds and pouring their souls out for us. A part of that soprano died in a bed of a now curable illness, even if it was just for one night and the next and the next. She died."

"Amy, can we continue this conversation after work? I've really got to go."

"No. That's all I wanted to say except for thank you. That was truly one of the most special nights of my life."

I took a long look at this girl, who was almost a woman. Then I reached out my hand to her expecting her to reject me once again, but this time she did not. She took my hand and stood up. Then she wrapped her arms around my waist and squeezed me. And with her head in my chest said, "Thank you. For everything."

When the sun does come out, San Francisco can get a little hot--not Oklahoma hot, but California hot. That's why we dress in layers. It can be hot in the middle of the day, and a chill can roll in from the bay in the evening. By the time I reached Farid's, I had taken off my jacket and was sweating.

"Can you make it an iced coffee this morning," I said to Farid as soon as I walked in.

"No hello? No good morning, Mr. Farid, why it's nice to see you in your fine establishment?" said Farid in his chiding manner. He signaled to the waitress. "Iced coffee for Mr. James."